


The New Man

by Tangerine



Category: X-Force (Comics)
Genre: First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-30
Updated: 2010-12-30
Packaged: 2017-10-14 05:48:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/146048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tangerine/pseuds/Tangerine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shatterstar finally reaches puberty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The New Man

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place after X-Force 43 (Vol. 1) and before X-Men Prime.

His penis was clearly dysfunctional.

Shatterstar didn't even remember the dream, but he knew as soon as he woke up that it had happened again. Third time that week, and third time too many, in his opinion. The first time he had been alarmed, the second time puzzled, and now he was just annoyed. And a little angry, because these instincts were supposed to have been bred out of him.

"Fekt," he said, staring at the ceiling. Perhaps it was ill, infected with some unknown disease, but he doubted it. He had been around humans long enough to learn a thing or two about fully functioning penises. For one, males were obsessed with them, and for two, they were seemingly uncontrollable. "Fekt," he said again, and closed his eyes.

Of all the things about him to finally approach the norms of humanity, it had to be his penis.

 _Fekt_.

Shatterstar sighed and sat up, peeling the sheets away from his sticky groin. He looked down and sighed again before standing up and looking for the shorts he clearly remembered putting on before bed. They were nowhere to be found, swallowed up by the darkness of the room. He glanced over at the clock. Three am, early even by his standards. Fully angry now, he yanked the sheets off his bed and dropped them on the floor.

This had never been a problem before _that_ woman. Before _Stecky_ , and Julio with his awkward unhelpfulness afterward. That Shatterstar had recognised that it was awkward was saying something, because he would be the first to admit humans and their misplaced emotions often levitated right over his head. It had been quite uncomfortable for him, too.

Shatterstar found a passable pair of pants and tugged them on, scowling. Barefoot and grumpy, he gathered the messy sheets in his arms and stepped into the hall, looking both ways before leaving his room. The last thing he wanted was for someone to notice what he was doing. It occurred to him, briefly, that he needed to buy more sheets, then he could just burn these ones and nobody would be any wiser to his present suffering.

He was thankful that Julio had taught him how to use the laundry machines. The light in the little room was unnecessarily bright, which just angered him more. It was cool in the room, but his skin felt uncomfortable, overheated, like it needed to be washed, too.

He started up the machine then closed his eyes, swaying slightly, before coming to rest against the washer. It vibrated ceaselessly under his hip, against his pants, his penis. It felt good, in a truly terrible way, but he found he didn't care. It almost offered him relief.

And the Julio came sauntering in the room, sweaty, visibly drunk, smiling.

Shatterstar straightened guiltily then immediately slouched again, mortified by his persistent erection. His penis was clearly out of control, and most probably diseased.

"Are you doing _laundry_?" Julio asked, squinting at him, crowding into his space. He smelled like beer.

Shatterstar shrugged, trying not to make eye contact. "It seemed like a good idea."

"You are," Julio floundered briefly then settled on, " _insane_. Really fucking insane."

"And you are drunk."

Julio grinned, poking him in the chest. "Yeah, probably. I managed to bum some drinks from these two smoking hot college girls, which is why you should have come with me. Shit, I can't believe you ditched me for laundry. Seriously, that's harsh, dude. I'm hurt."

"I don't like those places," Shatterstar muttered, flustered.

"Yeah, yeah," Julio said dismissively, and hopped up to sit on the dryer. His eyes seemed unable to focus, and his hair was a tangled damp mess clinging to his neck. Shatterstar's stomach churned uncomfortably. "We could have done something else, you know."

"I don't think so."

Julio rolled his eyes then lifted the washer lid before Shatterstar could stop him. He hooted as he dropped it with a loud bang. "You're washing your _sheets_ , dude?"

Shatterstar sighed.

"Didn't you just do laundry yesterday?" Julio asked suddenly, a fact Shatterstar had been hoping Julio would forget in his drunken stupor. The night had actually started with Julio barging into his room, demanding Shatterstar accompany him to a new club as Shatterstar had struggled violently with bed sheets that had never quite fit his mattress.

"No," Shatterstar said.

"Bullshit. What's wrong? You having wet dreams or something?"

Shatterstar could deny it, could lie, but he was already embarrassed, and he was truly awful at lying without warning, especially when he had to concoct a believable story. He simply shrugged, looking up the ceiling, his erection gone now, thankfully. There was nothing like a mortifying conversation with Julio to remind him that he wasn't human.

"It's normal."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"You're obviously uncomfortable."

"I will deal with it," Shatterstar assured him, crossing his arms over his chest.

Julio peered at him, in his space again, and Shatterstar sighed again. Julio kicked him lightly in the leg, and said, "Hey, what did I tell you? We'll _deal_ with this. You just need to … you have been jerking off, right?" Julio made vague, lewd gestures with his hand.

"Please stop talking," Shatterstar begged, as the washer switched off with a loud thump.

"You haven't."

"I don't need to. I have self-control. I … would like to stop talking about this."

"All guys jerk off, you know. I do. I know 'Berto does, because this one time …"

"Please, _please_ stop talking."

Instead of grinning like a maniac, which Shatterstar expected, Julio sobered slightly. "Hey, I'm just saying, it might help. I know how you feel about it, amigo, but I also know, well, this isn't a bad thing. It happens. I'd call it puberty, but you're a little old. No offence."

"Something's wrong," Shatterstar muttered. "Dysfunctional."

"Normal," Julio insisted. "Seriously. It's annoying, but it happens to every guy."

"Fekt," Shatterstar said, covering his face with his hand while Julio sniggered in the background, plainly amused. It was no chuckling matter. Julio didn't understand, couldn't possibly understand, why Shatterstar's first instinct was to fall upon his swords.

"I told you before, amigo. We'll get through this, all right? Just not tonight."

"Never," Shatterstar mumbled into his hand.

"Tomorrow, or later on, after I've gotten some sleep and sobered up a little." Julio smacked him on the back in an inexplicably comforting way. "Try and go back to sleep."

"No."

Julio rolled his eyes. "Whatever, amigo. Good night. I won't let this go either."

Shatterstar nodded stiffly, watching Julio wander away.

" _Fekt_ ," he said again, kicking the dryer.

~~~

There was only one way to deal with Julio when he had stubbornly put his mind to something: avoid him like the disease. It wasn't easy, as Murderworld was not that big, and there were very few hiding places he had that Julio didn't already know about.

It was not that Shatterstar didn't want Julio's help – he was almost desperate for it – but he knew without a doubt that Julio would make it all worse. Just because he didn't remember the third dream didn't mean he hadn't remembered the previous two. Perhaps that was why any conversation with Julio on the topic was more humiliating than normal. It was hard to look Julio in the face when his dreams had been looking anywhere but.

How had this happened to him? But even as he asked himself that, he knew the answer. He had let it happen. Living among humans had made him soft, at least by Mojo-established standards, and befriending Julio had probably sealed his fate. The smart move would have been just to ignore him like Shatterstar had ignored everyone else.

But no, it wasn't just that. He also blamed the end of the world, which had justifiably made everyone a little jumpy, even after the proper timeline had been re-established and Roberto had been rescued. Julio had been out partying almost every night since.

He managed to avoid Julio for close to a week simply by altering his own schedule. Julio was predictable – late to bed, late to rise – so Shatterstar just lived his life in reverse. No one commented on his behaviour, not that he expected they would. No one really cared.

Except Julio, of course, but as long as Shatterstar kept moving, he was safe.

But the dreams didn't stop, or the random erections at improper times, or the heightened awareness of everyone else, how they smelled, the shapes of their bodies, the curves of their smiles. It was maddening, uncomfortable, and thoroughly, utterly humiliating.

So he spent his days training, away from everyone else, working his body till it collapsed from exhaustion then getting up and pushing it even further. And in the quiet moments, he tried to meditate, but then his thoughts would drift toward Julio again, and how he sounded when laughed. Which always started the whole ridiculous cycle all over again.

~~~

On the seventh day, there was a battle. Their opponent was nothing spectacular: mediocre melee skills mixed with an underpowered mutant ability. It was an embarrassment to even engage in battle with such a pathetic excuse for a villain, but Shatterstar, who was in an admittedly rotten mood, tried his best to kill him anyway.

"Star! What the fuck, dude?" Julio shouted.

Shatterstar ignored him.

"I know you're not deaf, you idiot. Will you … fuck, can I get some help here, guys?"

Shatterstar ignored him.

"STAR!"

Shatterstar might have continued to ignore him if not for the fact Julio grabbed him by the hair and yanked his head back so forcefully that Shatterstar had to scramble to find his footing before he fell. "You fucking moron," Julio hissed, dragging him away.

"If you value your hands," Shatterstar replied calmly, "you will release me this instant."

"And watch you murder some guy out of misplaced sexual frustration? Yeah, right."

"I was not … I am not … _let go of my hair_."

"Do you promise not to try to kill anybody in the next fifteen minutes?"

Shatterstar yanked his ponytail out of Julio's hand. "Yes, and do not do that again."

"I won't," Julio assured him, sitting down on the curb, patting the space beside him.

Shatterstar narrowed his eyes. "We are in the middle of a battle."

"Star, I don't know if you noticed while you were beating that guy to a pulp, but he's pretty lame. The others will take care of him. Sit down," Julio added, when Shatterstar still hadn't moved. They stared at each other for a few seconds then Shatterstar sighed.

"I do not approve of this," Shatterstar announced, settling next to him.

"Duly noted. And don't think I don't know you've been avoiding me."

Shatterstar crossed his arms and stared at a piece of dried gum on the road.

"Okay, so it's gonna be like that, is it? Fine. Listen, I know you're freaked out by this, and no interruptions," Julio said sharply when Shatterstar opened his mouth to protest. "But ignoring it will not make it go away, Star. Trust me, shit like that never works."

Shatterstar clenched his hands, forcing the violence that rose up back into his belly. He longed to join the others, who were making quick work out of their opponent. He didn't care what Julio said. Ignoring it did make him feel better. Violence did make _it_ sleep.

"I'll help in any way I can. I mean, that's not much of a consolation, I know, but in theory, I know my shit. It's all social stuff, right? Since you're, you know …"

"Bio-engineered to fully simulate physical human interaction," Shatterstar muttered unhappily.

"Well, see, that's a good starting point. I mean, your equipment isn't freaky or anything."

At first, Shatterstar thought Julio was referring to his swords, but paused before blurting out anything along those lines. Julio rarely said what he meant, relying on slang and euphemisms. And Shatterstar wasn't stupid. "As far as I know," he replied eventually.

"As far as you know?" Julio repeated. "What? You haven't, like, _looked_ at anyone?"

"Why would I?"

Julio gestured helplessly then shook his head sharply, combing his fingers through his hair. His skin had flushed slightly, and for the first time, Shatterstar wondered if Julio wasn't as mortified by this whole situation as he was. One of the things Shatterstar appreciated the most about Julio was how he respected the privacy of others. "Right, alien, sorry, man. But surely you've seen one of us … haven't you? You must have."

"I am finished my morning training hours before anyone else wakes up."

"But after a fight? I mean, we all smell pretty rank …"

"My sweat glands do not produce the same pungent aroma," Shatterstar replied.

"So for all you know … huh."

Julio was, by now, completely red, and Shatterstar feared his own skin was doing something strange because the heat in his face was causing his ears to ring. In the distance, the battled had wrapped up, and the others were obviously purchasing time to allow them some semblance of privacy. The idea of anyone else knowing made him sick.

"Okay, well, I'm going to put us both out of our misery, but let me handle this."

"I would rather just forget the whole thing," Shatterstar replied.

"This is too important," Julio said, jumping to his feet. "You'll thank me later."

"I doubt it."

"Trust me, dude."

"Unlikely," Shatterstar insisted.

"Whatever," Julio replied.

"I won't."

"You'll see," Julio said, ominously. They walked silently back to the group, Shatterstar entering the PACRAT without a word, Julio staying outside with the others. He could hear them joking with him, impressed he was still living with his two hands attached. He felt like telling them if it had been anybody else but Julio, they would have died instantly.

Instead, he closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep when they finally joined him.

~~~

Julio allowed him a few days reprieve before attempting to torture him again with things better left forgotten. Living on Earth for so long had made him lazy, or that was what he told himself every night when he was so tired he could barely stay awake when watching television. Exercising to exhaustion was a productive and necessary use of his time.

But the dreams did not cease, nor did the persistent ache in his hips and nearby regions. His penis, once just another part of his body used only for purposes of waste evacuation, seemed to be constantly in a state of semi-arousal, and very difficult to hide or ignore.

On Saturday, Domino organised a trip to the nearest shopping centre for their monthly restocking. Normally, Shatterstar begrudgingly joined them if only to restock the minor provisions he could buy without frightening anyone, such as shaving cream and shampoo, but he refused to answer the door when Julio stubbornly knocked for eleven minutes.

"You're an idiot," Julio shouted with one last thump.

Shatterstar just continued to stare at the ceiling, fists balled up at his sides. And then, just to rub pepper in his wounds, he fell asleep and his dreams were the usual horrible mess of distorted naked bodies, throbbing need, and Julio's smile leaning over him, whispering in his ear, pressing their faces together in what his idiotic brain seemed to think was a kiss.

He woke to someone pounding on his door, and darted up, disoriented and nearly stepping on his swords before he got to the door and threw it open with a force that caused Julio to step back. It was only then that he remembered he had stripped down to just the pants of his uniform, leaving the rest of his overheated skin exposed and naked.

Julio blinked owlishly at him, clearly taken aback by his dishevelled appearance. "Okay, so you were either napping or jerking off, and since both of those things are practically out of the realm of possibly, I'm not even going to try to guess. Can I come in, dude?"

"I was asleep," Shatterstar said in a strange, rough voice.

Julio raised an eyebrow then slipped into his room without actually being invited. The press of Julio's body – miniscule, barely of consequence – was enough to bring his penis to full hardness. A dictionary of nasty words came to mind, but Shatterstar used none of them. At least it was dark, he told himself. At least Julio would likely not notice at all.

"I hope you appreciate the living hell you just made my afternoon," Julio said, plopping down on his bed. He flicked on the light beside Shatterstar's bed, dimly illuminating the room, and for the first time, Shatterstar noticed a brown package in his hands. "But if we're gonna do this, we're not gonna do it half-assed."

"We," Shatterstar repeated flatly.

"I told you I would help, didn't I? Get over here. I could just let you figure this out on your own, but I've seen you interpret human behaviour, and I don't want to risk it."

Shatterstar approached him like he was a Spineless One, but as much as being near Julio made it worse, his proximity also made him feel better, which was downright baffling.

"What?" He asked warily, the mattress dipping under his weight.

"You promise not to kill me?" Julio asked, a tiny smile crooking the corners of his lips.

"I suppose."

"Okay, so, um, here." Julio shoved the package at him. "Look at these."

Shatterstar frowned, but did as Julio asked, ripping the paper like it was a present then forcing his fingers not to let go when he saw what it was. Magazines, a dozen of them, the first one covered with women in various states of undress. He might have stopped there – buxom young women with long fingernails and bleached blonde hair – but Julio made a series of impatient gestures with his hands. Under the women were men.

He did drop them then.

"Don't get mad," Julio said quickly, holding up his hands like he expected Shatterstar to kill him, but Shatterstar could barely remember how to breathe let alone maim someone. "I just wasn't sure. I mean, it could go either way with you. Sure, there was that one girl, but then there was that super weird schoolboy crush thing you had going with X-Treme."

"Please just say what you mean," Shatterstar said stiffly. "English is confusing."

"Before I start pushing you at anyone, I want to see if you're straight, gay, bi or whatever." Julio scratched a hand viciously through his hair. "Sorry if you're offended."

"I do not come with these ridiculous human prejudices. Do not apologise."

"You seem a little mad, hombre," Julio replied.

"I am not angry," Shatterstar said. "I am simply … I feel strange."

"Like, um, turned on?" Julio croaked, and they stared at each other uncomfortably before Julio jumped to his feet, bending to gather the magazines. Was _Julio_ turned on? Shatterstar could not tell. The dim lighting that protected him covered Julio entirely.

He refused to take the magazines when Julio pushed them at him. "This is ridiculous."

"You said you wanted to work on the social stuff," Julio insisted. "And fuck, you have no idea what I had to go through to get these for you. I'm not exactly of legal age, dude."

Shatterstar felt his stomach drop. "You asked one of the others for help."

"Fuck, no, I did not." Julio was getting angry now, and justifiably so. If anyone had questioned his dedication to their friendship, he would have responded the same. "What have I told you? You can trust me with your fucking life. I would die before I asked Jimmy or Terry to buy this shit for me. No, I spent my entire fucking afternoon asking complete strangers to buy me fucking porn, so I could help my repressed best friend figure out what the fuck he likes before I do the hard part and try to teach him to act like less of a nutbag, and who may or may not have a forked curly dick, or something weird like that."

"My penis is neither forked nor curled," Shatterstar replied. "And I am not a ‘nutbag'."

"Fuck, I hate you," Julio muttered, collapsing on his back onto the bed, putting his hands over his face. A sliver of skin peaked out between his low-slung jeans and the hem of his t-shirt, and Shatterstar could see a sprinkling of intriguing dark hair on his lower belly.

If Julio meant to make Shatterstar feel guilty, he succeeded exceedingly well. Against his better judgement, Shatterstar picked up one of the magazines and examined it, thumbing through the pages. The women looked fit and healthy, and were really quite beautiful, and exactly what he expected. Clearly, human women matched the women of his world.

"The penis is inserted into that area?" He asked, mainly for confirmation. He had not been living under a boulder, and knew the basics, in theory, of sexual intercourse.

"Yes," Julio replied, muffled by his hands. "Dios, I wish I was drunk for this."

"Me as well," Shatterstar said.

They lapsed into an uncomfortable but bearable silence as Shatterstar tried to make amends by looking at pornography. Julio remained where he was on the bed, his breathing quiet and even. It made it easier to look at the explicit images. He suspected Julio knew that if he left Shatterstar alone, the magazines would quickly disappear.

His erection was unwavering, but he didn't feel as out of control as he had, almost like the discomfort was manageable. At least, it was until he looked at the first page of the next magazine, which had a young man who looked remarkably like Julio, dark haired, average height, perpetual smirk. The dull ache of his arousal exploded into violence.

"You find something you like?" Julio asked, sitting up suddenly.

Shatterstar slapped the magazine shut, ducking away from Julio's arm when he reached to grab it. His face was on fire, his ears ringing. The other eleven magazines slipped noisily to the ground, but he barely heard it. And Julio, who had no appreciation for Shatterstar's personal space, practically climbed him until he got a hold of the magazine.

"What's the big deal, you freak?" Julio asked, whacking him on the head with the magazine. "I told you I was cool with whatever. So you're into guys. Who cares?"

"Get out," Shatterstar said. "Thank you, but get out, please, Julio, I beg you, get out."

"Why are you spazzing … oh. Huh. That guy really looks like me."

"I have no idea to whom you are referring," Shatterstar replied, without looking at the page in question. "There is no resemblance."

Occasionally, Julio actually used his considerable intelligence for more than simply aggravating people. Even in the poor lighting, Shatterstar could see that page was the only wrinkled one in the entire magazine, clearly the side effect of their brief tug-of-war. The resemblance _was_ uncanny, and Shatterstar could hear the change in Julio's breath.

"Shit," he said. "Oh shit."

"Get out," Shatterstar repeated. "Just get out."

And for once in his life, Julio followed a command without question.

~~~

What followed was an awkward few days where Shatterstar could barely look at Julio, and Julio seemed to be avoiding him. The tedium was broken by a significant threat, which allowed Shatterstar to work off some steam, but it wasn't enough. The dreams persisted unrelentingly, and his sheets began to dissolve, thin patches marring the cotton.

His mood, likewise, followed a similar downturn.

He did not like this new man he was becoming. His uneven temperament had caused damage to the few relationships he had managed to make on Earth. Julio was the best example of this, but even Theresa, who occasionally joined him while he watched television, had ceased her interaction with him. And Domino had commented on his behaviour, privately. "Kid, if you want to talk, my door is always open," she had said.

Of all the humiliation he had suffered recently, that had been the worst.

If this was what it meant to be human, he wanted nothing to do with it.

He found listening to loud music helped to keep his focus off his perpetual discomfort. His room was in the deepest part of Murderworld, away from the others, so he did not have to concern himself with bothering them. The only time anyone passed his door was on the way to exercise and practice, which none of them, save him, seemed to do willingly.

He had heard rumblings all day of an excursion to town for entertainment and dancing, but when Tabitha had approached him with an invite, he had abruptly turned her down. He did not want a repeat of the Stecky incident. In his current condition, he could not predict his own reaction. If that meant never leaving Murderworld again, so be it.

The song he was listening to was loud and angry, the thump of the bass a steady pulse in his chest. He found himself mouthing the words at first then eventually singing them. He had never sung before, and while he was no judge of these things, his voice was pitch perfect. Not surprising, considering he had been created to be the best in all regards, but there had never really been a good opportunity to explode out into song on Mojoworld.

It took him a long time to hear the knocking. He knew who it was.

"Julio," he said, opening the door.

"Yeah, hi, can I come in?" He asked, looking at his feet, which were bare.

Shatterstar nodded, and went to lower the volume of the music. When he turned around, Julio was sitting on his bed, staring at his clasped hands. He was not, as far as Shatterstar could tell, actually drunk. It was still so early it was unlikely he had even gone out at all.

"Was that you singing?" Julio asked.

"Yes."

"You have a really good voice," Julio replied, looking up, finally.

"Thank you. I was engineered to be perfect in everything I attempt."

"Except sex," Julio replied, grinning suddenly, almost blinding in its intensity.

Shatterstar rolled his eyes, but it sounded like a truce was being offered, so he would take whatever Julio felt the urge to plate out, smiling. Silence stretched out between them, somewhat uncomfortable. He hoped Julio did not notice the magazines on his bedside table, but the minute he thought that, Julio looked around and rested his gaze there.

"The guys are starting to notice something's wrong," he said quietly.

"I am behaving normally."

"Really," Julio said flatly. "In what dimension?"

"My people are clearly not equipped, emotionally, to deal with sexuality."

"Bullshit," Julio replied. "I don't really know the guy, but Longshot seemed fine."

"Then clearly _I_ am not equipped," Shatterstar said impatiently. "Why does it matter?"

"It matters," Julio said through gritted teeth, "because my best friend is fucking miserable. Watching you struggle with this isn't exactly a good time for me either. I am not the best person to help you; I admit that fully. Me and you, the fact we're even friends baffles everyone else. Did you know that? Nobody understands us. But fuck them."

"The nature of our friendship is nobody's business," Shatterstar agreed.

"Yeah, exactly. So here's what we're going to do: you're gonna practice on me."

Shatterstar didn't know how to respond, so he said nothing at all. He was not entirely clear what Julio meant, if his offer applied only to the emotional component or extended further into the realm of the physical. Either way, Shatterstar did not know how to either turn him down, which his brain urged him to do, or to accept the arrangement, which the rest of him wanted. There was nobody else living that Shatterstar liked more than Julio.

Julio cleared up the confusion with seven words. "And I'm sick of being a virgin."

Shatterstar blinked. "You intend for us to have sexual relations?"

"Uh, not if you phrase it like that, no. But if you wanna, you know, experiment …"

"I do not know how," Shatterstar replied. "About anything. I do not know anything."

"So we start small. If there's one thing I know how to do well, it's jerking off."

He was tempted. With a sudden, startling clarity, he was sure he needed it, but he knew, if he did this with Julio, he could never go back to the sexless soldier he had been. And he had seen enough television to know his relationship with Julio could be damaged irreparably if even one part of this plan went awry. Julio was his best, his _only_ , friend.

"Our friendship …"

"Can survive anything, Star. I'll always be there for you. Whatever happens, I'm there."

Z'as vid, he _wanted_ it. He knew he wanted it, but when he opened his mouth, no sound came out. He twisted his hands in the sheets so Julio couldn't see how badly they were shaking. He wanted it more than he had ever wanted anything, and he was terrified.

"Is that a no?" Julio finally asked, eyes firmly fixed on his feet, his toes curled. He didn't know, Shatterstar thought, baffled, staring at the exposed line of Julio's neck. Julio honestly didn't understand what just being in the same room together did to him.

"I believe it is a yes," he said softly, curving his hand around Julio's wrist, squeezing.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Julio grinned at him, a little crooked, and Shatterstar tried to mirror him, even though his stomach was lurching around uncomfortably and his skin felt like it was on fire. When Julio reached for him, he instinctively moved back, too quick stop the betraying flinch.

Julio's eyes narrowed, his hand paused in the air, fingers crooked. Shatterstar knew that look, so he grabbed Julio's wrist before he mistook nerves for rejection. When Julio reached for him again, Shatterstar let him, shivers shooting down his spine as Julio's hand curled around the back of his neck. This, Shatterstar knew, was a prelude to kissing.

Still, he was unprepared for Julio's mouth, the sudden press of his lips, the whisper of his breath. Julio pulled back, looked at him, and then leaned in again, his hands cupping the sides of Shatterstar's face. The second kiss was different, wetter, more forceful, and Shatterstar tried to return it, but it was much harder than it had looked like on television.

"I'm just gonna," Julio muttered against his mouth and, before Shatterstar could respond, climbed onto his lap, straddling him. Doing so put pressure on his penis, which made Shatterstar buck slightly. Julio grinned. "Sorry. That other way was killing my neck."

Shatterstar didn't know what to say, so he kissed Julio again. Julio's mouth tasted sweeter than he had thought it would, and he would have been content with only his lips, but then Julio added his tongue, and that was unexpected, though he should have known.

He should have known.

Julio pried his hands – uselessly fisted in the sheets because he didn't know quite what to do with them – out of the knot of cotton and put them on Julio's hips. "Touch whatever you want to," Julio murmured, which was unhelpful. Shatterstar wanted to touch it all.

Shatterstar settled on curving his palms around Julio's hipbones, the tips of his fingers rubbing over the rear pockets of his jeans, and focussed on Julio's mouth and the kissing, and the feel of him on Shatterstar's groin, a steady unyielding force against his penis. Julio let Shatterstar take more and more of his weight onto his lap, until. Until …

"Stop," Shatterstar said, twisting a hand into Julio's t-shirt. Julio froze, almost falling off the bed, but Shatterstar kept him where he was. He could feel the furious beat of Julio's heart under his hand, and he realised his own was following the same erratic pattern.

Julio tapped his fingers on Shatterstar's jawbone. "Hey, Star, what is it?"

"I don't know," he said helplessly, feeling like he had on the first day he had arrived on Earth. Nothing had made sense; he had barely understood a single word spoken to him. None of the faces he had seen had matched his pictures or stories. He had hidden his panic with bloodshed, his discomfort with aloofness, but that would not work here. Julio already understood him too much. He needed Julio to understand this, too.

Julio narrowed his eyes, and then in one quick motion ducked and pulled back, sliding effortlessly out of his t-shirt, leaving it balled up in Shatterstar's hand. In that same easy movement, he then tucked his hands under Shatterstar's shirt and tugged it off his body.

"Are you sure you have not done this before?" Shatterstar asked.

"Vivid imagination," Julio replied then leaned forward, lifting up, pressing his chest against Shatterstar's, kissing him again. The sensation of bare skin on bare skin was overwhelming. Shatterstar could feel the hot brand of Julio's erection on his stomach.

Even without Julio on his lap, Shatterstar felt that same terrible pressure rise again. He curled his hands against Julio's ribs, knowing he was digging into his skin, unable to stop. Julio pulled back again, cradling Shatterstar's face in his hands, steadying him.

"You need to relax," Julio murmured. "Just let it happen, okay? Stop fighting so much."

"Maybe I am not meant for this after all … perhaps I am somehow … _dysfunctional_."

"You don't feel dysfunctional to me, Star." Julio lowered his weight, squirming experimentally. Shatterstar groaned out loud. "Nope, definitely not dysfunctional."

"Julio," Shatterstar said helplessly.

"Take off your pants."

It came out like an order, which Shatterstar had always responded well to. It also meant Julio had to climb off him, and Shatterstar immediately mourned the loss of his weight, wanting him back after all but pushing him away. It made no sense; if only he could somehow temporarily lobotomise himself. That would definitely solve all his problems.

Julio undressed efficiently, pushing both his jeans and his underpants down his legs in one swift movement. He was undeniably handsome, leaner in most places, darker, and Julio's penis, though a little smaller and missing the sheath of skin at the tip, resembled his own enough that Shatterstar let out a breath he hadn't know he'd been holding.

Julio grinned then reached for the hem of Shatterstar's sweatpants as his other hand settled on Shatterstar's chest, pushing him back onto the mattress. Without fanfare, Julio yanked the pants down Shatterstar's legs before doing the same to his boxer-briefs.

Julio's grin slipped off his face, replaced by something more serious, though Shatterstar couldn't place the new emotion. His dark eyes swept over Shatterstar's body before resting on the ruddy arc of his penis. Shatterstar forced himself to lie there, unmoving.

"I guess I'll get used to it," Julio said eventually.

"What?"

"You being so damned perfect in everything, even your dick."

Shatterstar scowled, causing Julio to laugh and climb onto the bed, right over him. Heat radiated from his body, and Shatterstar put a hand on Julio's thigh then skimmed up the length of him, memorising every rise and fall of his skin. Julio's shiver was full-body, unmistakable, and he took that moment to lower himself fully onto Shatterstar, and …

Shatterstar opened his mouth to protest, to fight it, but Julio's hand on his penis, wedged between their bellies, made it hard to think. Julio covered his mouth with another deep kiss. They moved at the same time, and then again, legs twisted together, and that feeling came back with a vengeance, causing his toes to curl. And Julio, his hand, tightened.

"Just come," Julio whispered in his ear then replaced the words with a kiss.

The feeling in Shatterstar's body, a tidal wave now, crashed over him. He made awkward sounds, and nearly bucked Julio right off the bed, and raked his fingers down Julio's back. He had to remind himself that he had enhanced strength, that he had to be careful of Julio's more fragile body. Wet warmth spread across his belly, first his own ejaculate then the splash Julio's seconds after. The entire room seemed to be shaking.

The entire room _was_ shaking.

"Oh shit!" Julio said, laughing, sitting up on Shatterstar's thighs. "Shit, shit, shit."

It was hard to speak, but he tried. "Do you need me to knock you unconscious?"

"No, I'm fine." The items on Shatterstar's dresser stopped moving, though it was too late to stop his swords from crashing noisily to the ground. "I'm, _dios_ ," Julio's scrubbed his hands through his hair, "that's never happened before, not even when jerking off."

Shatterstar touched his hand to Julio's belly. "Perhaps you also need more practice."

Julio grinned. "Maybe I do."

Shatterstar tried to mimic the expression, failing miserably. The silence between them wasn't exactly awkward, but it was not comfortable either. He was sticky, and sweaty, and still half hard, and even Julio didn't seem to know what to do next. Shatterstar felt profoundly different, but otherwise okay. Julio was right: it had been quite relaxing.

Finally, Julio shifted off his legs, but instead of leaving, like Shatterstar expected, collapsed onto bed next to him. He scratched a hand across his stomach, ruffling the dusting of dark hairs, then suddenly rolled over, reaching for something on the floor, a shirt. Shatterstar raised an eyebrow then flinched when Julio scrubbed it over his belly.

"That shirt was clean," Shatterstar said, annoyed, batting him away. "I hate laundry."

"You better learn to love it," Julio replied with a shrug. He balled the shirt up then tossed it into the empty laundry basket. "You have the bigger bed. And sex is pretty messy."

"Perhaps we should only engage in sexual relations in the shower."

"I'm up for trying that," Julio replied, leaning back, settling into the crook of Shatterstar's arm, "but please, dude, call it fucking, okay? Or screwing. Or messing around. Or _anything_ but that. This isn't one of those trashy books Terry reads."

Shatterstar hummed, but otherwise said nothing. Despite the exertion of their activities, Julio smelled good. He was hard again – they both were – but the urgency was gone. This was enjoyable, too, laying here with Julio, admiring him. He had a very pleasing body.

Julio squeezed his hand. "Hey, you okay?"

"I believe so."

"Yeah," Julio said. "I thought it would feel weirder, but whatever. I'm rolling with it."

"Only a little strange," Shatterstar agreed. "I feel like a new man."

"Hate to tell you, but that happened months ago." Julio slicked a hand up the inside of his thigh, and Shatterstar had to concentrate very, very hard to make sense of what he said next. "This just means your transformation to the dark side is nearly complete."

"Hmm," Shatterstar said, and left it at that.


End file.
